Butterfly of Venus Page 11

  Joan’s voice turned frosty. “I don’t think you ever met him, did you, dear?”

  “N-n-no. But poor Decky. Poor, poor Decky.”

  Joan took Natasha firmly by the shoulders and turned her around. “Declan is fine. The washrooms are over in the corner. Go and splash some water on your face and try to pull yourself together. There’s a good girl.”

  She gave the bawling Natasha a little push and sent her away. Joan rolled her eyes at Elizabeth. “Honestly! That girl came to the gravesite after we had specifically requested it just be Declan and myself.”

  Declan, returning with his mother’s coffee, overheard her remark. “Who? Natasha?”

  Joan continued speaking to Elizabeth. “Declan had to ask her to leave. She hovered around the periphery like a vulture. It was most disturbing.”

  “She can be a bit much,” admitted Declan. “She’s very emotional. Hates to miss out on things.”

  Elizabeth felt this would be a good time to go. “It was nice meeting you, Joan, although I would have preferred happier circumstances.”

  “Thank you for coming, Elizabeth. I’m sure Declan appreciates the support.”

  Declan gave Elizabeth a look filled with warmth and kindness. “I do. Thanks.”

  Elizabeth wanted to ask when she would see him again, but it didn’t seem appropriate.

  Once again, he seemed to know what she was thinking. “Mother and I are going to spend a few days together, going through Dad’s things. I’ll give you a call when we’re done.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “See you then. Goodbye.”

  She turned away in time to see the questioning look his mother shot at Declan. She was clearly saying, “I see much more than you think.” Elizabeth decided she would hate for this woman to be an enemy.

  Chapter Nine

  Elizabeth busied herself at work. Her charity ball was coming up and she had a lot of details to sort out, including a silent auction of extremely high-end goods. She tried hard not to think about Declan. It was more difficult than she had anticipated. For one thing, in organizing her purses, she came across the key from the bridge of locks in Paris. It was a reminder of their first night together. Elizabeth remembered the balcony and shivered. Since that night, Declan had managed to unlock a key part of her. She had opened herself to him, sharing with him her most secret thoughts. Could she reveal even more?

  She tried to concentrate on business, but her thoughts strayed. Everywhere she went, everything she looked at seemed to send her brain in search of Declan: lovers kissing on the street, a musician carrying a guitar, even a CPR kit on the office wall reminded her of him. It didn’t help that Declan’s gift of The Kiss was still on her desk. She ran her fingers over the man’s thighs. They were much like Declan’s, smooth and muscled. She imagined she felt the pressure of his legs between her own. She touched the sinewy muscles of the tiny statue’s arms, remembering how Declan’s arms had held her so strongly but tenderly. She was almost in physical pain with the need to lay her head against his smooth, sculpted chest. She wanted to listen to the rhythmic thumping of his heart, then move slowly down to his belly. Underneath the soft surface, his stomach was rock-hard. After that she would lick her way farther south. She was secure that her efforts would be rewarded. He would be erect and waiting. She would tease him. She would circle him with her tongue. She would drive him mad with desire until he couldn’t take it anymore. She would—

  Bzzz. Elizabeth started from her daydream at the sound of the intercom. This was ridiculous. Was Declan a drug and she some kind of junkie? She’d better get a grip.

  “Yes?”

  Manny’s voice came through the speakers. “Mr. Jayce Corning to see you.”

  Jayce Corning? Oh God. She’d forgotten he was coming by. How could she forget someone so important? What was happening to her?

  “Send him in, please, Manny.”

  Elizabeth tidied her desk, brushing away a few crumbs from an earlier sandwich. She knew she would see Declan next week. It was his birthday and they’d agreed to celebrate at her place. He would be twenty-five. If only briefly, the age gap between them would narrow. She knew exactly what she was going to give him. She felt a rush of anticipation. Her face flushed hot just as Jayce entered her office.

  “Hi, Jayce,” she said, forcing herself to focus. Good to see you. How’re things going?”

  “Things are going. And things are coming. Just the way the world works.”

  “True.”

  Elizabeth felt great affection for Jayce. He was a large black man who’d worked his way out of the L.A. ghetto. He was widely considered to be something of a producer genius. They’d worked together with a number of artists. She was extremely confident in his ability to bring out the best in a performer.

  “Have you had a chance to check out Declan Thomas’s website?”

  “I checked him out.”

  “And?”

  “And I would say he’s got potential.”

  “Good.”

  “Good-looking, too.”

  “Looks never hurt.”

  “He write his own lyrics?”

  “All his own.”

  “As well as the casino dude, I’ve been asked to put together a CD of up-and-coming people for Starbucks. I think Declan T. might fit the bill.”

  “That’s great, Jayce. He’ll be thrilled.”

  “First I gotta see him live, ’cause possibly there’ll be a tour.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll be in L.A. for the next month. Let’s set it up for when I get back.”

  “You’re going to miss my black and white ball?”

  “Yeah. Gimme two tickets anyhow.”

  Jayce wrote Elizabeth a cheque for twenty thousand dollars. He was a generous man.

  “Thanks, Jayce.”

  Elizabeth consulted a schedule of Declan’s forthcoming gigs. “He’s playing at Clinton’s on the fifteenth of next month.”

  Jayce made a note on his cellphone. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll call and remind you. We can meet outside at ten.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Elizabeth saw Jayce to the door. As soon as he was gone, she congratulated herself. This was even better than she had anticipated; not only had the ultra-cool Jayce been impressed by Declan but now he had possible projects in mind for him. She couldn’t wait to let him know. She texted him, “JC cmng to Clntns 15th.” He texted back, “Cool.” That word again. He could surely have found a little more to say. “U still on 4 bday celeb? Wed my plce 7?” she sent. He texted back, “Cool.” Oh well. Elizabeth was going to have to let it go. She didn’t want to impinge on the time he was spending with his mother.

  She wondered what her own relationship with her mother would have been like. Would they have been close and shared confidences? Would she have told her mother about Declan or would she have kept it a secret? She would never know. She hadn’t told her father anything about her romantic life, or lack thereof. She remembered being seven years old and telling him, “I want to have a baby, Daddy, but I don’t want to get married.”

  Jack had admonished her gently. “Don’t say that, Lizzie. When the time comes, you’ll want to get married. You’ll want to have a daddy for the baby.”

  “Can I have a daddy just like you?”

  Jack laughed. “You can try, my Lizziekins.”

  He tucked her into bed, smoothed her hair and kissed her. As he did every night, he pulled out his Les Paul guitar and played soothing jazz riffs until she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Declan’s actual birthday was on Tuesday. Elizabeth understood he’d want to spend it with his mother, particularly in light of his father’s recent death. She happily agreed to a celebration the following night. She was going to make it a birthday he’d never forget.

  Elizabeth baked a ca
ke, something she hadn’t done in years. Instead of icing, she used whipped cream, spelling out Declan in tiny balls of chocolate. She called Rodney’s and ordered twelve shucked oysters. She placed not one, but two bottles of Veuve in her fridge to chill. Scented candles filled her house with the warm smell of vanilla and lavender. A small fire burned in the Victorian fireplace. Soft music from a jazz station wafted through the house. By seven p.m. everything was ready. She was bathed and perfumed, her hair loose and flowing down a simple blue silk dress. Her heart raced at the thought of Declan and what they would do together.

  At 7:10, the doorbell chimed. Elizabeth flew to the front door, checking through the peephole to make sure it was Declan. A number of robberies had occurred in the neighbourhood recently, so she was being careful. Through the peephole, she saw the back of a police officer. Oh God. Was something wrong? Had something happened to Declan? With shaking hands, she slid back the safety lock. She had a terrible premonition now, a sinking feeling of dread. She opened the door a fraction.

  “Yes, officer? What can I do for you?”

  A menacing voice said, “Ma’am. You’re under arrest.”

  Elizabeth gasped. The officer was Declan. He pushed his way into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  “Turn around, ma’am,” he said sternly.

  She did as he said and felt a pair of handcuffs snap around her wrists.

  “That’s better,” said Declan with a sexy grin. He spun her around and kissed her hard on the mouth. He tasted like peppermint. “Now I can do with you as I like.”

  What was he going to do with her? She couldn’t believe how handsome he looked in the police uniform. She felt herself getting wet. “What are the charges, officer?”

  “You have been charged with lewd and lascivious behaviour, driving men out of their minds.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Declan ran his tongue around her ear and down her neck. “You’ve been going into bars and letting strangers fuck you. Haven’t you?”

  Elizabeth whispered, “Yes, officer.”

  “Now I want to see what you use to excite them.” Using a black truncheon, Declan lifted up her dress. “Spread.”

  Elizabeth moved her legs apart.

  “Wider.”

  Elizabeth did as he said. Declan moved the truncheon slowly back and forth over her crotch.

  “This is what you use to get men hot, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Elizabeth felt as if she could have an orgasm at any moment. She shuddered as Declan slipped her panties down to her feet.

  “Step out of them, ma’am.”

  Declan’s gaze smouldered. Elizabeth obeyed him. He lifted her breasts out of her bra and gently licked each nipple, now rock hard.

  “I believe you also use these to excite men. Answer me.”

  “Yes.”

  “And this?” Declan was squeezing her ass.

  “Yes.”

  “You are committing a crime, so you have to be punished.”

  Oh God. What next? Elizabeth’s knees were shaking so badly she thought she might fall down.

  “Come with me, ma’am.” Declan led her to the living room. He pushed her gently onto a chair. “As punishment, you are going to be exposed to me.” Declan lifted her dress and pushed her legs apart. “Keep your legs open so I can look at you.”

  Elizabeth was dumbfounded and trembling. She had never felt so excited by humiliation.

  Declan sat opposite her on a chair. He looked casually around her living room, then back at her crotch. “I bet you’d like it if I fucked you, wouldn’t you, Elizabeth?”

  Oh yes. She wanted that more than anything. Her excitement level was off the charts. The authority of the uniform made Declan hotter than ever. She could see the swell of an erection though his dark police uniform. Slowly, he unzipped himself. He looked at her in a teasing, cocky way. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I like the word ‘please.’ Use it again.”

  Declan began stroking himself. Elizabeth wanted to cry out, “Don’t do that!” Instead, she said, “Please, Declan. Please fuck me.”

  “How do you want me to fuck you?” His hand was moving faster now.

  “Hard. I want you to fuck me hard.”

  “Why? What are the charges against you?”

  “Exciting men. Letting strangers fuck me.”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  Declan stopped touching himself. He was staring hard between her legs. His blue eyes glittered with lust. In one quick movement he was out of the chair, his tongue flicking over her swollen clitoris. “You’re a slut, Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, I’m a slut.”

  “A slut who teases men and uses her body so they can’t control themselves.”

  “Yes. Yes. Oh please. Please punish me. Fuck me now.”

  Her orgasm rapidly tipped towards the brink as Declan’s tongue flicked over her faster and faster. As she came, in a series of waves, he raised himself up and pushed into her. She shuddered and shuddered, crying, “Oh, oh, oh,” as Declan reached his climax. Letting out a howl of satisfaction, he collapsed onto her body. He lay panting for a few seconds, then looked up at her admiringly. “You are something else.”

  Declan kissed her. She could taste her salty sweetness on his tongue. It was the best fuck she’d ever had. The balcony in Paris had been steamy, but this qualified as the real thing. Declan unlocked the cuffs he’d put on her. He started to laugh, then brushed her cheek. “What do you think? Happy?”

  She ran her hands over the dark blue serge of the uniform and across his broad shoulders. She took his long fingers and kissed them. “Very. And happy birthday, officer.”

  “You are some sweet present, Elizabeth Harding.”

  “That’s not all. Wait here.” Pulling her dress down, Elizabeth went upstairs to the bedroom. She returned with a guitar case and handed it to Declan. His eyes were wide with surprise.

  “A guitar?”

  “Go on, look inside.”

  When he opened the case and saw the vintage Les Paul, his jaw fell open. “A Les Paul! It’s beautiful. I can’t take this.”

  “You can and you must.”

  “It’s worth a fortune.”

  “It was my father’s. He would appreciate it going to a talented musician.”

  Declan lifted the guitar from its case and ran his hands reverently over it. Seeing it cradled against Declan’s body, and the joy with which he touched it, she knew she’d done the right thing.

  “It’s a real honour. I’ll treasure it forever. Thank you.”

  While Declan tuned and strummed the Les Paul, Elizabeth set out the oysters and opened the Veuve. At the sound of the cork popping, Declan walked back to the kitchen.

  “Oysters and champagne. You are spoiling me.”

  “Mmm. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spoil.”

  Declan slipped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. She could feel him getting aroused again. He murmured into her hair, “I find the sight of you very arresting.”

  Elizabeth could see the two of them reflected in a hallway mirror, his dark locks nestling against her own coppery hair. The police uniform made him seem older, more sophisticated and devastatingly, dangerously sexy.

  “I want you,” he whispered, “and I can’t wait a moment longer.” He lifted up her dress and feigned surprise that she wasn’t wearing underwear. “No panties? That’s a turn-on.”

  Elizabeth grinned.

  “Unzip me,” murmured Declan.

  Elizabeth did.

  “Now make me as hard as you can.”

  Elizabeth kneeled before him and took him in her mouth. With one hand, she cupped his testicles, round, firm and smooth, like young plums. She gently squeezed whil
e running her tongue up and down the length of his shaft and swirling the ridge below its tip.

  “I want you from behind. Now,” groaned Declan.

  Elizabeth kneeled on the floor.

  “Put your head on the carpet. Leave your ass in the air.”

  Elizabeth arched her back so her rump was exposed. One of Declan’s fingers played with the entrance to her anus while his erection slid easily inside her.

  “You are a very bad girl, Elizabeth.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to do bad things to you.”

  “Yes. ”

  “Do you want me to do bad things to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you let me fuck you anywhere, anytime, in front of anybody?”

  “Yes.”

  Declan began slowly but was soon fucking her so hard she could almost feel her skeleton rattle. She clenched her muscles. Declan’s thickness was inside her, invading her, completing her. Now was the time to transport to her fantasy zone.

  Elizabeth was in a medieval marketplace, in a slave bazaar. Surrounding her were men, all staring at her body . . .

  No. The fantasy would have to wait: she could feel Declan approaching his climax. His rhythm slowed, then in one final thrust he was spent. He pulled out and collapsed onto the carpet beside her. His eyes held a bemused twinkle. “Did you come, Elizabeth?”

  She was just about to say yes when she thought better of it. “Not that time, no.”

  Declan’s hand slid lazily down her body. “That’s my girl. Tell the truth.”

  “I’m not sure I can come more than once in an hour.”

  “I love a challenge.”

  Elizabeth stood up. “Declan Thomas, you are going to wear me out.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’m going to have a quick bath.”

  “Good idea. Maybe I’ll join you.”

  “In that case, bring the champagne.”

  Elizabeth poured expensive scented bubble bath into the bottom of the tub and turned on the taps full blast. She slipped out of her dress and examined her face in the mirror. Yes, she decided, she looked like a woman who was being well and truly fucked. Her cheeks were pink and glowing. Her mouth seemed fuller and more luscious. Her eyes had a luminescent quality that hadn’t been there before. She pulled her hair up, twisted it into a bun and slid gratefully into the enveloping warmth of the bath. She felt completely relaxed, almost euphoric. She now had something that had been missing from her life. She had desire. The thought of Declan and what he had done to her made her vaginal muscles clench in pleasure. Turning up as a cop had been a stroke of role-playing genius. He had known exactly how to humiliate her in a very sexy way. He was so confident. So uninhibited. He seemed to be able to get inside her head and see the pictures she played when she wanted to arouse herself. She thought of being handcuffed in the chair, with her private parts exposed just for Declan’s casual pleasure. Was it possible she was getting turned on again? She closed her eyes and leaned back.